Deranged Disciples 1
Deranged Disciples 1 is an encounter in the Madness & Magma mission hub. It comes after Mad Minions 3, Insane Armsmen if you have Boots of Magma Walking, or Deranged Disciples 4 if you don't have Boots of Magma Walking. Enemies *Lunatic Warrior (1170 Gold, 144 XP, 90 Energy, 8 HP Normal) *Lunatic Mage (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 8 HP Normal) Transcript Introduction Guilbert’s Journal, 4th of Ham The book called Kyddin the greatest mage who had ever lived. Absurd! How dare the author neglect my magnificent might? And he died centuries before I was born, so I can’t even punish him… Unless I find his corpse and violate it… I asked the walrus to make a note of that, but he refused. So I shall write it here instead: Violate that author’s corpse! The fool remained anonymous, lacking the courage to place his name on his work. Or perhaps he ran out of ink. So I shall have to violate every corpse in every cemetery, to make sure I violate his! Or hers… Do women write books? I shall have to ask one. But first I must find the wand… The book said that Kyddin created Kwizkazak, after he was nearly slain in a battle with a lich. Stupid wizard! Didn’t he know that liches are vulnerable to garlic? Or is that wolverines? No matter! His magic reserves ran low in the fight, so he decided to fashion a wand that could act as a repository of arcane might – a device to rely on in future emergencies. But it was stolen… Vivian snatched it when- Yes, that’s an ellipsis! What of it, you stupid walrus? Oh, look what you’ve made me do! My thoughts are pouring onto the page like vomit, imprisoned on its paper like hamsters! Stop distracting me! Vivian snatched it when she pilfered his choicest spells, and fled to the north with her stolen treasure. That’s what the book said, and the book said, and I repeat it here. Because the book was too heavy to steal, you stupid walrus! And the story is already falling out of my head! Being stolen by the mind magpies! She took it to the north, to Stromhamre. And Kyddin hunted her, to take back what she had stolen, to punish her for her crimes. Bah! The rocking of this ship is making my words all wobbly! And the other passengers are staring at me. They must be after the wand as well! They can’t have it! Kwizkazak is mine! -- Guilbert the Mad --- A fat hand seizes your arm, pulling you to a halt. “Hold on!” Hugh says. “Stop storming about like a bloody nutcase and tell us what’s going on!” You turn, ready to tell him to let go and keep moving. But many of the others are staring at you with the same confused expressions, as though waiting for answers. You sigh. They deserve an explanation. Your desire to do violence can wait. “Ever since that green twerp said that name, you’ve been looking like you want to hack someone’s head off,” he continues. “Who was he?” “Guilbert was a madman,” Tessa replies. “Yeah, I got that bit. Didn’t think they called him Guilbert the Mad because he had a full plate of chips in his noggin.” “He caused the Drake war,” you say. That quietens him. His eyes almost seem to bulge from his head. When his mouth opens again, after a long moment, it’s Brachus who speaks. “No human caused the war with the dragons. It was the continuation of an ancient conflict begun by the wyrms themselves. I’ve spoken to fiends who witnessed its first battles, in the days when Terracles walked the world instead of the heavens.” “Even I know that,” Hugh says. “Everyone does. The dragons tried to conquer West Kruna, and got themselves bashed by all the heroes and demi-gods who were knocking around back then. So they went to sleep, thinking that by the time they woke up they’d only have a bunch of regular sods to deal with.” “My host has a somewhat distasteful way of recounting events of historical importance, but he’s accurate nonetheless.” “Yes,” you agree. “But there’s something-“ “Welcome, brothers and sisters in madness!” You turn. And your blood seems to rage as hot as the magma below. Men and women dressed in grey and purple robes. Some brandish swords, others the staves of mages. All bear a purple gemstone on their foreheads. Just like he had, worn in tribute. “Our priestess awaits those who-“ The murder in your expression and raised weapon end the woman’s speech. It only remains to make her silence permanent… Conclusion “The mad one will rise!” the woman cries. “He’ll tear your sanity-“ The sound of your open hand against her cheek rings across the cavern, like the cracking of a bone. It silences her, but it isn’t enough to remove the cold smile from her bloody lips. “Tell me what your rabble’s doing down here,” you say. “By our hand he will return! The veil of death will be nothing to him!” You grab her, grasping handfuls of thick, soft robe, and thrust her towards the edge of the rock. She offers no resistance, doesn’t struggle like the goblin did. “How? Tell me everything.” The woman laughs. “Let’s go see him together!” She throws her arms around you. Her grip is impossible, so powerful that her limbs of steel are like steel biting into your flesh. The strength of insanity, of a deranged mind transforming muscle into something inhuman… Her face twists into a mask of beautiful, malicious rapture. She falls backward, towards the burning orange lake. And you fall with her. Death in her wild eyes, death down below… Both just as bright, just as mocking… Your heart thunders in your breast. Your vision blurs around the edges, forming a narrow tunnel as though to focus on your impending destruction. The breath freezes in your lungs, turning each chamber into a lump of lead. Your neck tightens as though crushed by a powerful… No, wait… The grip is real. And you’re no longer falling. Something thuds into the lunatic’s head, knocking it to the side. Her eyes are still wide and wild, but they’re empty now. The arrow buried in her temple has sent consciousness, life, and soul tumbling from her body. The bands of steel-like flesh loosen around you. The robed body tumbles away, fluttering towards the molten sea below. It’s received with a nonchalant bubble of magma, then disappears from sight. The force around your neck changes, pulling instead of merely holding, yanking you towards survival. Its sheer power spins you round, leaving you facing two crystal-covered breasts. You tilt your head upwards. Rakshara’s smile is a glorious orange sunrise. You try to speak, but pain bursts into being on either side of your neck. “Tend to your injuries, my friend,” she says. “There will be plenty of time for gratitude when the two of us stand together in the crystal kingdom.” You nod, creating another explosion of agony, and allow one of the healers to administer to you. Category:Madness & Magma